Le Roi Est Mort, Vive Le Roi
by Alphabet Pie
Summary: The King, Xemnas, is dead - and a new ruler has risen to the throne. Is nobody going to actually argue with that? 411 and more.
1. Prologue

The battle was really quite spectacular.

Even bound by false memories of Naminé, Sora was still a good match for Xemnas; Vexen knew that for a fact, having already felt the Keyblade Wielder's terrifying power twice before. But although as good a match as he easily was, it was also nail-bitingly even.

The Chilly Academic watched with nervous detachment - lives hung in the balance here, and not just Sora's or Xemnas' - over the Never Was intercom system from his place propped up in pillows on a bed, somewhere. He was gently recovering from a few nasty bruises and cuts, a broken arm and plenty of second degree burns. Everybody else was presumably viewing the fight live.

He heard the sullen click of the door opening and twisted his head around to face whoever was coming in.

It was Marluxia. The man - an arrogant bastard, Vexen had always thought - carefully adjusted his position amongst the bedding with a gentleness Vexen hadn't realised he possessed, then sat down next to the bed in a plain, wooden chair.

"I thought I'd come and check to see how you were doing." He said lightly.

"I'm fine," Vexen snapped quietly, still staring at the screen in front of him. Xemnas was winning, but only just. Sora healed himself, and the ground was even again. "I thought you'd be watching the fight."

Marluxia smiled, craning his neck to gaze out at the empty, placid sky.

"The way I see it," He said respectively, "Is that the sooner amends are made, the better. Wouldn't you agree?"

Vexen subscribed to the "Least said, soonest mended." school of thought, and told Marluxia this. It elicited a chuckle from the younger, stronger man.

"Very well. I shan't apologise for very nearly, but not quite, killing you, then. Nor shall I tell you why."

He must have known that Vexen was a naturally curious man, for he simply smiled at the predicable response of narrowed green eyes and the ghost of a hiss escaping through gritted teeth.

"By now I'm sure you have guessed that I'm executing a plan to take over the Organisation," He continued, anyway. "But, and I'm sure you think little enough of me to have believed otherwise, I'm not simply overthrowing Xemnas in a bid for power. A man of your intelligence must have realised that the man is completely and utterly insane."

Vexen barked a laugh, then winced as it sent pain shooting through his bruised and burned, if not broken, ribs.

"We all knew he was off his rocker. Unfortunately, he was dangerously so."

"Thank goodness you have me to act for you, then," Marluxia remarked. "But anyway. I needed to assess Axel's trustworthiness, and also present the image to Sora of a broken, evil Organisation. Your supposed "death" worked perfectly to this end - Sora was driven only further by the execution presented to him, for fear of what we could do to Naminé if we were willing to kill one of our own, and I was able to gauge that Axel was indeed as dangerous as we had feared. The Riku Replica is dealing with him now. A remarkable creation, I must add. Axel would not be able to tell the original from the fake."

Vexen sighed, but he didn't have the heart to summon up furious, vindictive rage.

"You could have told me that I wasn't actually going to die."

"Oh, but you put on quite a good show out there. And informed sources tell me that you are rather a terrible actor. I needed the illusion to be infallible."

Vexen frowned at Marluxia's comment.

"Informed sources...? Zexion and Lexaeus knew?"

Marluxia shrugged.

"Things would have been ruined if they'd interfered. Don't hold it against them."

Vexen huffed a little, refocusing his wandering gaze to the last throes of the battle. It looked as though Sora was going to pull through, and win.

"If you'd bothered to consult me I could have just sent a replica out, instead. That would have saved me a great deal of pain indeed."

"Oh." Marluxia said, finger to his lips. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Idiot." Vexen muttered under his breath.

There was one final cry from the Intercom and Xemnas, the Superior, fell. Marluxia grinned, and from a normally composed Nobody as he, it was terrifying.

"That's "Idiot Superior" to you."


	2. Chapter One

In the end, the only Nobody to truly fall was Xemnas. Sora killed him dead with his Keyblade and he was gone; it was that simple. More or less.

Marluxia called a meeting the next morning, or as close to morning as anybody could guess. The World that Never Was certainly went through a daily cycle, but what constituted as "morning" for Demyx was almost certainly "mid afternoon" for Marluxia, and more than likely "tea time" for Luxord. There were no clocks. None of them had really worked quite right in this place of listless nothingness.

Marluxia called a meeting, all the same. Own clothes. That was interesting.

Vexen, in his dressing gown - he wasn't really well enough to get up and dress, but still Marluxia had somehow insisted he attend the meeting, was amazed to realise that a good proportion of his colleagues if not comrades he had never actually seen in anything other than their uniform leather coats.

Somebody had also evidently popped in a few hours earlier and adjusted the height of all the thrones so that they were, more or less, now the same height again. There was a small gradient from the highest throne, once Xemnas', to the lowest (artfully opposite), but compared to the almost humiliating differences of the old layout, it was less than meaningless. For Vexen, who rarely did missions and even more rarely did them well, it was a bit odd suddenly no longer having to crane his neck to see everybody else's feet. He quite appreciated it.

For a few minutes, everybody was waiting and expectantly eyeing everyone else up. Things were tense. Xemnas was dead; who were the traitors? Who were still loyal to him, who would rise against the new arrangements? What was Marluxia going to be like in power, anyway?

Fashionably late, Vexen thought spitefully, scratching fruitlessly at the cast that bound his right forearm. Hah.

When he arrived, he was wearing Xemnas' coat. No - not Xemnas' coat; for the white in the intricate patterns wasn't white but a delicate shade of shimmering, silvery pink.

"Comrades," He said, wide sweeping gestures so reminiscent of their old Superior. "What is done is done. Xemnas is dead. I claim administration over the World that Never Was, and the Organisation."

"Administration", Vexen mused. An interesting word: not "leadership", or "control"; he'd deliberately humbled himself in order to gain favour with the less trusting members. Marluxia was clever, Vexen had to give him that.

Marluxia paused for a moment to let that sink in, then continued.

"Larxene shall be my second in command. After that, the chain is as follows: Every one of you third. From this point onwards, ranks no longer exist. I want to be referred to by my name, and so should you."

Ah, that was smart too: aside from Larxene, and that much was obvious anyway, Marluxia couldn't be accused of favouritism. Although the elder members wouldn't like it so much - and it meant little to all but Vexen anyway - it was a quick way to win over the neophytes tired of being bossed around.

"The project Kingdom Hearts is also to be abandoned if at all possible. I intend to get back to you on that particular notion. Our aim is to reclaim our hearts, not to dominate or destroy the world as Kingdom Hearts only seems capable."

Establish his benevolence and discredit Xemnas in one fell swoop, Vexen thought. Simple.

"Any questions?"

Demyx, predictably, thrust his hand upwards. He was wearing all kinds of ridiculous attire he'd presumably been itching to show off for years, and there was so much it was overwhelming and all a bit silly.

"Yeah," He said, a schoolkid again, "Uh. Does that mean no more missions?"

"As of yet," Marluxia replied. Demyx seemed satisfied.

A few silent moments went past before Vexen found the courage to speak.

"Is nobody going to even consider opposing Marluxia's rule in the slightest?"

"Vexen," Xaldin said easily, "You cannot possibly have held any loyalty to Xemnas. You can admit it, you know. He held us under no more than a rule of fear."

"Who's to say Marluxia will be any better?"

"I could have left you to die at Axel's traitorous hands, you know," Marluxia replied smoothly, tone no different from when he'd broken the wonderful news to Demyx that missions were postponed until further notice.

Vexen growled.

"You could have consulted me fi-"

"Vexen. Please." Marluxia said calmly, silencing the other Nobody. "The Organisation is no longer a dictatorship ruled by a madman. Things are going to change. Please, do be the rational, logical man I know you are and accept that fact."

"I'm still confused," Xigbar piped up. "If Axel's a traitor and Saïx was Xemnas' right hand man, then why are they here and okay with flowerboy here ruling their asses?"

Axel held up his hands, mocking surrender. They were bare, and bandaged.

"Hey, you know that all I care about is my own skin. I'd have been loyal to Xemnas if he was stronger than Marluxia. But oh, hey. He's dead. I don't give a shit any more."

Everybody turned to Saïx, and the Diviner sighed.

"I agree with Marluxia. Xemnas became out of control, more interested in enshrouding the world with Darkness than reuniting us with our hearts. Although-" and there was a little well veiled malice in his words- "It remains to be seen whether Marluxia will turn out to be better."

"Oh." Somebody said quietly. Understandable, Vexen thought. There'd been a lot of rumours about Xemnas and Saïx and just how close they'd been, and to have that thrown away in just one sentence was evidently something of a shock to everybody.

"Any more questions?" Marluxia asked.

"Yeah, how are we going to get our hearts back without the use of Kingdom Hearts?"

There was the flash of a winning smile.

"We're working on it."

* * *

"So. We did it."

Marluxia was lounging on the covers of his bed, smirking. Larxene was also lounging - on top of him. Neither of them were, ahem, entirely sober.

"Of course," was all Marluxia had to reply.

"You didn't think that maybe we weren't gonna pull through?"

"I knew Sora had the power to defeat Xemnas."

"Or that more people would complain than did?"

"Axel is a fox who cares nothing for those other than himself and will loyally follow each and every higher power. Saïx was planning to overthrow Xemnas' control, anyway. And Vexen is Vexen, _quod erat demonstrandum_."

Larxene giggled, grabbing the much-depleted wine bottle again.

"There'll still be problems though, and you know it."

Marluxia tilted his head back in the pillows to gaze impassively at the empty ceiling, one arm wrapped lightly around his partner in crime.

"I know," He finally said. "But it shan't be too hard to do a better job than Xemnas."

Larxene kicked her legs a little, drinking a healthy gulp from the bottle before passing it to Marluxia.

"Ooh. Harsh."

"Speaking of harsh, I need to consult with Vexen as soon as possible. I need to find out if there are any other alternatives to heart restoration than Kingdom Hearts."

"There have to be," Larxene said, resorting to playfully fiddling with the collar of Marluxia's open shirt now that she no longer possessed the bottle. "I mean, an oversized, heart shaped moon has to be _the_ most illogical reasoning for getting a bunch of Nobodies' hearts back. Honestly."

She pouted just for effect, and Marluxia apparently found this so endearing that he just had to lean down and capture those lips for his own. Half an hour later, the empty wine bottle was forgotten.

* * *

"Vexen."

The man in question glanced up from the book he'd been studying, and sighed.

"Oh, not you again."

Marluxia, who had slipped in through the door just seconds ago - without even knocking! - simply smiled the same smile that he'd used before that could have meant anything - absolutely anything at all.

"I'll politely request that you show a little more respect for me. I am your superior, after all."

Vexen scoffed.

"What do you really want? Your speech at the meeting was clearly nothing more than propaganda."

"You'd be surprised at how much of it I meant," Marluxia replied lightly, taking a seat at the side of the bed where Vexen lay.

"None?" Vexen guessed dully.

"I really do want to change the Organisation for the better," Marluxia began earnestly-

"- Spare me."

"I'm not asking for your trust. I know you wouldn't be strong enough to kill me. The others would be impassive to your cause to remove me from my position."

Curious; Vexen thought. Even on a one to one basis, it was still "position", not "throne" or "power" that Marluxia referred to. Vexen honestly wondered how long that would last.

"You shouldn't be so sure," He settled on muttering, a little thrown off by Marluxia's continuous humbling of himself.

The man in question sighed a little.

"All I want from you is a little of your medical and scientific expertees put to good use,"

"You want hearts," Vexen guessed easily. "You want a way to restore our hearts, without Kingdom Hearts being involved."

"Of course," Marluxia replied. "What else can we, as Nobodies, truly care for?"

There was a short silence as both men contemplated the notion set forth by the Assassin. Marluxia was the first to speak.

"So can it be done?"

This time the silence was longer; Vexen tilted his head back to rest it against the pillows propped up for him, mind lost for a moment in calculative thought.

"Yes," He finally said. "I daresay with the right time and equipment, I could synthesise functional hearts."

Marluxia smiled.

"I will supply anything you need."

Vexen gave him a mildly suspicious look.

"Anything?"

"Within reason." Marluxia quickly amended. "I doubt a coffee percolator, for instance, would be so useful to the cause."

"Oh," Said Vexen, "I would beg to disagree."


	3. Chapter Two

Missions adjourned into the unforeseeable future, a kind of listlessness soon settled over the Castle That Never Was. For a day or two, nobody knew what to do, and agitation began to culminate.  
Marluxia called another meeting.  
"Excursions to other worlds are permissible, you know," He said once everybody was done complaining - of course, Vexen thought, as pleased as they were at the overturn of Xemnas, Marluxia was still going to have to earn his place as leader of Organisation XIII.  
Demyx was the first to jump out of his seat.  
"Seriously?! Anywhere?"  
"I would prefer if you limited your trips to a single day, at the most - in case any issues do occur I want you to be quickly and readily available. And I would like to know prior to your absence where you will be going. For safety's sake."  
"No offence," Xigbar drawled, "But we can look after ourselves."  
"There have been a few cases of members going missing on missions before," Marluxia replied smoothly, as though he had been planning to say this all along. Then again, given his calculative mind, he had probably covered all eventualities and prepared for them long ago. Vexen wondered how well he'd fare when asked a question for which he had no perfect answer laid out before him. "It is merely a precaution."  
"Take too many precautions and you'll end up going nowhere," Xigbar huffed, beaten.  
"Take too few and where you'll be going is likely off a cliff," Marluxia replied flippantly. Nobody could work out if it was a threat, or not, but Demyx laughed.  
"Hey, can we improve the sleeping arrangements?" He asked. The tension snapped, and Marluxia gave a wan smile.  
"I daresay if you earn the luxury, we could."  
"And something about the horrible interior design in this place," Zexion added.  
Vexen turned to look at him, a frown on his face. Zexion had been the one, when the Organisation had first come into effect under Xemnas' rule, to suggest the neutral colours that constituted as the scheme for the Castle. Nobodies rarely had the capacity to change - why did Zexion suddenly choose to rail against his previous decision?  
Zexion happened to glance up as the conversation shuffled on - Demyx apparently wanted bright bordering on psychedelic colours - and caught Vexen's eye. The Chilly Academic was quick to glance away.  
He'd not spoken to either Zexion or Lexaeus since the takeover, and had made no plans to do so either. Those two bastards had comprehensively betrayed him by sitting back and doing nothing as Axel ripped him to the ground. They'd sided with Marluxia himself and that was unforgivable. Either of them could have suggested a replica take Vexen's place in Twilight Town - and yet, neither of them did. Vexen didn't want to know why.  
"- Vexen?"  
"I'm sorry?"  
Vexen caught his name and turned to face Marluxia, a questioning expression on his face.  
"I was asking your opinion on new interiors for the castle,"  
"Oh, God," Larxene, slouching next to her partner on her throne, moaned. "Don't ask Vexen. He'll want slime green, or something."  
"Every member deserves a say," Marluxia retaliated. "Vexen?"  
Vexen cast a furtive glare at Zexion.  
"I think it's fine as it is."

----

It took a week for Vexen to be up and about on his feet; he daresay enjoyed the break from working - Xemnas always forced recovery times to be as short as possible, which was all well and good for the younger members with strong muscles and supple bones but had never served the increasingly creaky Vexen well - but was glad to be back in the labs.  
Marluxia wasted no time in finding him.  
"So, have you been considering the practicalities of heart synthesis?"  
Vexen, scribbling an update to his journal - _"Marluxia overthrown Xemnas. Turns out he's not such of a bastard after all, at least I hope. Wants to paint the walls in retina-destroying colours. Has made some very smart moves. Waiting for him to trip up. Not associating with Zexion and Lexaeus any more. Commissioned to make hearts. V._" - twisted in his seat to welcome or glare away the newcomer.  
"Do you want the long answer, or short?"  
"I'm very interested in the dynamics of biological science," Marluxia commented idly, drawing up a stool and sitting next to Vexen. "So, long. And "At least I hope"? Vexen, I thought better of you."  
"You almost killed me," Vexen pointed out, snatching his journal away.  
"Touché." Marluxia admitted. "So, explain."  
"Well," Vexen began. "I've been studying the heart for most of my life, and I've com to the conclusion that like a whole being, it is made of three parts - the shell- " He gestured with his hands an outer crust to this imaginary heart - "The emotions, and the core - to which the emotions are drawn, and filtered both ways through the shell. The shell itself would be easy enough to replicate as it is simply a membrane similar to that of a cell, albeit with different functions. In fact, a heart is a lot like a single celled organism - the shell is the cell membrane, the emotions forms the "cytoplasm" where all reactions take place, and it is controlled by the core - or the nucleus. Are you confused yet?"  
Marluxia had been doodling on a post it note. Vexen sighed.  
"Are you even listening to a word that I'm saying?"  
"Of course I am," Marluxia dutifully replied without looking up. "I'm taking notes, lest I be required to actually memorise any of this. Please, continue."  
"Now, the emotions are impossible to create artificially but they can be collected from fully functioning, human heart - or even the heart of an animal. I have a theory, and this is very important so stop scribbling a minute and just listen."  
Marluxia laid down his pen and looked up. He seemed to be following.  
"Yes?"  
"I call it the fluid heart theory. This means that the "heart" that we think of it is not a source of emotions, simply a vessel through which emotions pass. Imagine this - every human being in the entire worlds is connected, emotionally, to every person they have met, every animal with which they have interacted - even inanimate objects can sometimes hold emotional ties. Through these connections pass emotions - love, liking, disdain, hatred - so a heart which has only negative connections will be filled only with negative emotions - so that's all its bearer can feel."  
There was a pause.  
"You know," Marluxia commented, "When you're talking about science, your eyes light up in a way I've never seen happen otherwise."  
"Gah! You weren't listening, were you?!"  
"Of course I was. Emotional ties, positive equals positive, negative equals negative, loving inanimate objects."  
"That wasn't what I-"  
"It was a joke, Vexen."  
"... Oh."  
"So how does this theory of yours correlate to synthesis of hearts?"  
"That's precisely it!" Vexen exclaimed. "It makes it a great deal easier. Our first attempts at replicated hearts were created with emotions trapped inside - but this meant that the emotional output of the bearer was very mechanic, simplified and extreme. We couldn't duplicate the complexity of the emotions - and Xemnas soon considered synthetic hearts as a whole impossible. But if I can work out a way to create the core - which is really just an emotional magnet - then it ought to be simple."  
Marluxia nodded slowly.  
"Fascinating."  
"I didn't think you'd understand," Vexen huffed, turning away. Nobody really did; love for science seemed to be Vexen's alone, even amongst the other researchers.  
"You're the one who needs to understand," Marluxia replied, "I'm just curious. Nobody else seems to listen to you, after all."  
That was harsh, Vexen thought dully - if true. It was the first time Marluxia had said something so thoughtless. He sighed, stretching his back, hearing the click of each vertebrae popping into position.  
"Sometimes I wonder if they deserve hearts,"  
"Everybody deserves a heart," Marluxia said, and he sounded almost put out. But then he smiled, and passed Vexen something across the table. "Here. Take the rest of the day off. Go and have fun."  
"Need I remind you that nobodies can't have fun," Vexen muttered sardonically, picking up the little parcel of munny. Marluxia just smiled.  
"I beg to differ."  
A whisper of a portal later and he was gone.  
Vexen quickly counted the munny - a good thousand or so - and sighed. As though he needed any more time off - although he supposed that he oughtn't complain if Marluxia had given him explicit permission.  
For lack of anything better to do, he opened a portal and slipped out into an alleyway in Twilight Town. Days off for him were rare - unlike Zexion and Ienzo before him, he had good health, and unlike Demyx (and most likely his somebody in turn) was not accident prone. And Xemnas had never really done holidays at all.  
Besides, Vexen's mind never settled on one subject alone unless it was science. Even as he wandered aimlessly around one shop after another, he was still figuring the logistics of synthesising a core. He needed samples, first and foremost. And a coffee percolator. Using filters was such a bother - Vexen was sure that with the right words he could convince Marluxia to supply him with one. It would make his work more efficient, or some other sycophantic jargon like that.

----

"Xig. I'm bored."  
"Go play on your sitar, or something. I'm trying to shoot shit here."  
Demyx, lounging at the edge of the arena and looking as bored as he claimed to be, let out a long and dramatic sigh.  
"There's nothing to _do_."  
"You seemed pretty happy to do nothing back when Xemnas as in power," Xigbar commented offhandedly. There was the crack of his gun, and one slithering Dusk collapsed. For a moment, Demyx didn't reply.  
"... Well, that was different. Now we're allowed to do other stuff than kill Heartless all the time."  
"Then why are you harassing me?" Xigbar muttered, cocking his gun one final time. Bang; the last Dusk was gone. He stepped back from the firing range.  
"Because there's nothing to do," Demyx moaned. "Dunno which worlds to go to."  
"Visit Atlantica, or something, then," Xigbar suggested.  
"Come with me?" Demyx wheedled,  
"Oh, good lord. Marluxia has created a monster."  
Demyx pushed himself away from the wall, pouting impressively.  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
"Just saying that when Xemnas was in power you weren't quite this annoying," Xigbar remarked. "You never did work then either but at least you did a good job of pretending to,"  
Demyx frowned.  
"And when Xemnas was in power you'd never be so mean." He huffed, stomping out.

---

"Vexen."  
Tensions since that takeover, Vexen had come to realise, hadn't suddenly eased after Xemnas was dead. All the Nobodies were still slightly distrustful of each other; they'd come to form little cliques which rallied off each other - Marluxia must have known that the Organisation was beginning to fall apart.  
Vexen, though he cared little for Marluxia's grasp on the Nobodies, or their own personal power struggles, was beginning to worry about Zexion. Particularly now that he'd just walked in through the door.  
"Zexion."  
"I haven't seen you around lately."  
"No."  
Zexion sighed, closing the door behind him and walking in to sit next to Vexen on the old, falling apart sofa in his room. He'd always said that it was a hideous pattern; then again, who knew these days - everything seemed to be changing these days.  
"You could at least give me more than one word answers,"  
"Why?" Vexen asked blankly, not turning from the television screen as empty as his expression.  
"Because we're supposed to be friends," Zexion replied. "Or as close to friends as Nobodies can get, at any rate."  
"Friends who stand by and watch each other be brutally murdered?"  
"Vexen, don't start on this-"  
Vexen bit the bullet.  
"Either of you could have suggested the use of a replica. Why didn't you?"  
Zexion looked away.  
"You know, I find it interesting that you're more willing to associate with Marluxia - the man who ordered you dead - than Lexaeus and I."  
"I didn't have my trust betrayed by Marluxia because I never trusted him at all."  
"You're still alive, aren't you?" Zexion hissed, patience waning. It was only then that Vexen looked up, hatred burning in his acid green eyes.  
"_Alive_, yes. Traumatised, too. I have scars, Zexion, I hope you know that. I have scars and I will for the rest of my life because you and your cliff-face of a boyfriend simply stood by and watched me _burn_ to within an inch of my life. Perhaps that will help you to understand a little why I'm unwilling to give my trust to you again."  
"And yet you have so willingly agreed to help Marluxia by replicating hearts."  
"Don't change the subject!" Vexen snapped. "Marluxia is partly to blame for this and he at the very least has had the decency to apologise. Your continuous avoidance of my questions only proves that you have no explanation for your actions in Castle Oblivion."  
Caught out, Zexion at first did not reply. So Vexen continued.  
"If either of you were to have been Marluxia's choice then I would not have hesitated one minute before offering to create a replica and spare you the pain."  
"Perhaps we didn't want to spare you the pain," Zexion finally said, lowly.  
"And what, pray tell, is the meaning of _that_?"  
"God knows you're an insufferable fool," Zexion began, clearly seeing that there was no turning back now. "Always complaining about Lexaeus and I - you always _had_ to be right, _had_ to be in control of every single little detail, and clearly _your_ theories were the only ones with any credit to them - it was hell working with you. Even as a Somebody, nobody liked you."  
The silence seemed to last forever, even the beep from the digital clock in the corner to commemorate a new minute seeming long and drawn out.  
"Just get out." Vexen finally hissed. Without another word, Zexion was gone.


	4. Chapter Three

"For lack of anything better to do," Marluxia said after a week and a half of mind-crushing boredom for the majority of the Organisation, "And since I can see that some of you are itching to have anything to complain about, missions as of today will be reinstated."  
There was a moan of apathy from the collected Nobodies. Marluxia ignored them.  
"Reconnaissance," He said over their voices, holding up a hand to silence them. "During Xemnas' rule, every member did their fair share of recon and a great deal of information was amassed. However, the Organisation data banks are a mess-" And he looked pointedly, if not accusingly, at Xigbar. The man shrugged.  
"Ain't my problem if the others don't know where to put the shit they've collected."  
"It no longer matters." Marluxia replied flippantly. "The information is not useful to our cause. Xemnas had you all collect data on the Darkness of people's hearts and this is useless. From now on it will be your objective to assess the emotions - of all kinds - of the natives in each world we have so far encountered. Are you still following me, or are your nails more interesting?"  
Demyx, who had been picking at them, looked up guiltily.  
"Since he did such an excellent job last time, Saïx will once again be in charge of the missions, although when they are complete you are to report back to me. They shall be distributed on a weekly basis."  
Interesting, Vexen thought. Marluxia was giving everybody an easy time, probably to secure their favour. But the more free time the Nobodies were given, the worse tensions would rise in the Castle. Marluxia couldn't fix that, and Vexen was curious to see how he tried.  
"Missions may also be completed in whatever size groups you deem necessary," Marluxia continued. "There is also the considerable matter of hearts."  
Several people who hadn't really been listening suddenly perked up, all ears and eyes open.  
Marluxia glanced at Vexen, and nodded. He took this as a sign to speak, and cleared his throat.  
"I'm working on a practical solution to the problems of heart synthesis," He explained at the Organisation in general. "I shan't bore you with the details but I'm ninety-eight percent certain that it will be possible, and the resulting hearts will be as functional as natural hearts,"  
There was a cheer from Demyx, ever the optimist, and a quiet chuckle from Luxord.  
"How long is it going to take?" Larxene, lounging against her throne in tight jeans and a grey hoodie, asked.  
"I have no idea," Vexen replied truthfully. "That would depend on the materials and equipment available. I should also need a test subject once the first heart is complete. Of course, Roxas would be best for the job, but I understand that he is somewhat important-"  
"What happens to Roxas' body is up to Roxas." Marluxia interrupted, looking directly at the boy. He'd barely spoken since the takeover and seemed a little distant to everything, but now he was watching Marluxia with a careful, inquisitive eye.  
"I don't mind who volunteers themselves to have the first heart implanted," Vexen quickly added, amending himself. He needed to adjust to the fact that from now on everybody was going to be acting like they were human. And if that meant one thing, it was that things were going to get messy, very quickly. He hoped that Marluxia had realised that in his perfect plan of the future.  
Larxene, surprisingly, raised her hand.  
"I'll do it."  
Marluxia nodded approvingly at her, and Vexen grit his teeth. When he said that he didn't mind who volunteered, that didn't mean that he wanted that slimy little bitch...  
"It is decided, then. Vexen, do you need any assistance?"  
Vexen didn't miss the glance that Marluxia cast towards Zexion and Lexaeus. He shook his head.  
"I'll be fine on my own."

---

"Ah. Vexen. How good to see you again. I trust you are well?"  
Marluxia had requested another meeting with Vexen just a week later to keep up to date with the process of heart synthesis. So here Vexen was feeling a little lost in Marluxia's airy office at the top of the castle.  
"As well as ever," He replied, lingering uncertainly by the doorway.  
"Do have a seat," Marluxia said, pulling off his gloves and settling behind the desk. Vexen complied, as Marluxia plucked a pomegranate from a basket of fruit.  
"So. How is the project going?"  
"Larxene," Vexen said accusingly, "Is a _pain_ to work with. She touches everything, cannot perform even the simplest of experiments, has ruined my results more than a few times..."  
Marluxia chuckled a little.  
"She is rather, isn't she?"  
Vexen frowned, having not expected that sort of reaction.  
"I thought you liked her,"  
Marluxia stood, gently prising away the outer skin of the fruit he held.  
"Of course I do. She's the best friend I've ever had, and that's saying a lot for a Nobody. Curious, isn't it?"  
"What is?"  
Marluxia gestured to the pomegranate.  
"Such a plain fruit, the pomegranate. Peel away the skin and inside you find nothing more than pith and yet - if keep working, and inside you find a myriad of beautiful jewels,"  
To prove his point he split the fruit with his thumbnails and there, nestled in the core of the fruit, were a whole family of little blood red seeds. Vexen, who wasn't one for metaphors and much less poetic metaphors, simply frowned.  
"What's that got to do with anything?"  
"Larxene is a precious girl should you look closer than her callous exterior,"  
"We're Nobodies," Vexen snapped before he could stop himself. "All we _are_ are callous exteriors,"  
Marluxia simply smiled thinly.  
"Perhaps. Perhaps not."  
"Hmph."  
"I see you haven't been speaking with Zexion or Lexaeus," Marluxia said suddenly.  
"No," Vexen replied curtly.  
"You shouldn't hold my actions against them, Vexen," Marluxia said, almost reproachful in his tone.  
"It's fine," Vexen said as there was a knock at the door and Marluxia swept over to open it. "I have other things to hold against them,"  
Larxene was standing in the hallway, hand on her hip and a cocky smile plastered onto her face.  
"Hey there, boys,"  
Vexen rolled his eyes at the derogatory comment, but Marluxia didn't seem to concerned by it, simply ushering Larxene into the room with an almost mockingly chaste kiss to her forehead.  
"Vexen tells me that you are a pain," He said lightly as he drew up a chair for her.  
"I see I'm doing my job well, then," She retorted, blowing a kiss to Vexen who visibly recoiled. "Stuffy old geezer. I don't see why Marly li-"  
"Larxene. Please." Marluxia interrupted. "Vexen is playing a very important role in the Organisation. And don't call me Marly. It makes me feel like a dog,"  
Larxene petulantly stuck her tongue out at the Assassin as Vexen stifled a snigger. _Marly_. It must have been the most ridiculous name for the man and yet, it was oddly endearing...  
"Shall I be going then?"  
Larxene and Marluxia had been smirking to themselves over some private joke, glanced up.  
"That would depend on whether you had anything further to discuss,"  
"I don't believe so," Vexen replied carefully, and took his leave.

---

_It is a curious thing,_ Marluxia wrote one evening. _Even beings with no hearts seem capable of falling into a habit of emotional expression when they are not forced into an emotionless mould..._  
He habitually teased the end of his pen with his teeth as he formed the next sentence in his mind.  
_And yet whenever questioned, we immediately snap back into the same heartless routine. Curious indeed. As Vexen would say, this merits further research._  
Hm. Vexen.  
_It is curious also how bonds can form and break, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary. It appears that the heart is not the only complex component of a person. Perhaps further experiments shall reveal the answers. Perhaps we will always be in the figurative dark._  
Marluxia glanced back at what he'd written.  
_Perhaps it is time I was asleep._  
He placed down the neat little notebook and the pen, waved a hand over his light, and lay back.

Nobodies do not dream.  
Their empty core does not allow it so; they simply cease to exist when they sleep - they become shells, of sorts, no deeper than the physical body. The soul is flighty, without the heart to lock it down.

Marluxia, true to his heartlessness, did not dream. One moment he was staring into the darkness of his room, and the next his alarm was filling the room with soft light and music. He whacked it, and the glow became a glare.  
Marluxia was not a morning person. He never had been; only strict self-discipline kept him awake in the early hours of the morning. Vexen would be up, no doubt. And it was Vexen that Marluxia needed to see. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was a thought in the back of his mind that he felt must have been extraordinarily important to have withstood the nothingness of sleep. But it didn't come to him, even as he tugged a brush through his hair, and dressed down in a smart pair of jeans and a plain white shirt that he left open at the collar.  
Vexen could shine some light on the subject, at least that was what Marluxia hoped as he slipped on a pair of pumps - effeminate perhaps, but useful - and made his way down the twisting corridors to the castle's laboratories. Already Demyx had been at work with the paint and bright colours were splashed haphazardly onto the walls in an attempt to brighten the place up. They didn't look right, but they still coaxed a small smile onto Marluxia's lips.  
This castle had always been perfect and useless to their purposes. It was situated in the darkness, close to Kingdom Hearts - although Marluxia had long since dismissed its value as a heart restoration technique - but it was as emotionless as they were logically supposed to be. Marluxia knew well enough that although Nobodies were hollow, they were anything but lacking in personality. According to the evidence that had been collected, all Nobodies should have been the same. And clearly, they weren't. But this castle seemed to have the effect of proving the exact opposite - it sapped all life from all who inhabited it until they truly _did_ think they were heartless.  
Marluxia had been planning a move since the very beginning, but until a new, more suitable location could be found it was nothing more than a plan.  
How many weeks had it been? Marluxia had been eager to install a calendar to the Grey Room (now in the process of being renamed the Rainbow Room, only hindered by objections from all bar Demyx) to keep track of the days, but here there was no sense of time. There was no sense of _anything_, in fact. No wonder, thought Marluxia, that the whole Organisation was borderline insane.  
But things were running smoothly enough - with the Nobodies put to work collecting new information not on negative emotions but positive, destroying the last of the heartless, and running errands for Vexen, things had settled into a sort of routine. There was occasionally the odd disruption to this in the form of a heated disagreement and sometimes a fight, but by and large Marluxia was able to break things up. And Vexen reported that he was making good progress with the Heart Synthesis project.  
All in all, things were going startlingly well. This worried Marluxia. But he didn't know what to do to rectify this worry, so he left things as they were and continued to run the Organisation as was.  
Another thing that worried Marluxia was Vexen. As of late, the man had become more and more secluded, speaking little to anybody - Marluxia knew that he had had somewhat of a disparity with Lexaeus and Zexion, but he didn't know what and it seemed rude to ask the man. Not that he could; Vexen was surprisingly not in the laboratory.  
The fluorescent strip lights glared as always, and in containers and test tubes things bubbled and clicked, an elaborate machine linked to a torch set up in the corner that split the white light into some sort of pattern before reconnecting them all. It was so beautiful that Marluxia dared not touch, however curious he was as to what would happen if he should twist this lens just a millimetre or so to the left...  
"Interesting, isn't it?"  
Marluxia's head snapped up to face Vexen, who was leaning against the doorway with a clipboard in his hands. His hair was tied back out of his face in a loose pony tail, his body covered by a long laboratory coat.  
He quickly straightened.  
"Yes. Might I ask why...?"  
Vexen shrugged, carrying the clipboard over to an immaculate desk and checking off a few more boxes.  
"I was simply amusing myself. What brings you here? The others shan't be up for several hours yet."  
Marluxia walked over to Vexen to inspect his work. Flawless, all of it. The Academic had thrown himself into this project one hundred percent.  
"I came to see how you were doing."  
"Good. I can finally show somebody who understands a fragment of what I say my new break though. Come."  
Marluxia smiled inwardly and followed Vexen to an observation platform overlooking a cavernous hall, the walls and floor of which were covered with bottles and jars, all empty. In the centre, floating alone, was what looked like a shapeless crystal.  
Vexen handed Marluxia a pair of goggles with some kind of widget attached to the side and placed his own pair over his eyes as Marluxia copied.  
"Take a look at this."  
He flicked a switch and the lights clanged off. And there-

- Marluxia gasped.

Strung between the other objects, the containers that Marluxia had assumed empty, and the crystal in the centre, were hundreds upon hundreds of twisting, glowing threads. They were tinted slightly blue by the goggles, some brighter than others. They pulsed, collectively, like a great, beating heart. He couldn't stop himself from reaching up to touch one and his hand passed straight through.  
"What are they?" He breathed, taken back at the momentum of what he was seeing.  
Vexen was smiling a little in the darkness, a test tube filled with whatever the stuff the threads were made from in his hands.  
"It's just a substance I've been using for testing in place of real emotions," He said, and his voice sounded different. "They have the same properties, you see. I've been using it to develop a functional core."  
He pointed to the crystal in the middle, which was glowing like a lamp.  
"My first attempts couldn't collect emotions - I'll call this substance that so as not to bore you with the details - in the same way that true hearts do. It would pass in and out of the membrane that supported it, but that was all. Eventually all the emotions were simply drifting aimlessly in and out of the jars. But I've finally done it - I've created a "core" that can attract and retain emotional ties. Look at them. Aren't they stunning?"  
Marluxia had been watching Vexen, actually, but since the older man hadn't noticed he chose not to comment and turned back to the room of emotions and nodded.  
"Very. What are the practical implications of this?"  
Vexen smiled a little proudly, taking off his goggles and effortlessly hanging them on an invisible hook in the darkness. He took Marluxia's too, and just like that the "emotions" were gone. Then Vexen turned the lights back on and returned to the main laboratory.  
"What it means," He said, "Is that my first prototype heart will be completed by the end of the week,"


	5. Chapter Four

Just as Vexen had predicted, it was late one Saturday morning that Larxene became the first Nobody to reclaim her heart. Vexen didn't make a big fuss over it; he simply briefed her on what was going to happen first, and then, taking the shining orb - it was functional only, and not heart shaped or anything poetic like that - in gloved hands, pressed it into her chest.  
There was a lengthy pause. Larxene, perched disrespectfully on the edge of the lab desk, thoughtfully lifted her hand up to her heart.  
"Is... is that it?" She finally asked.  
Vexen nodded curtly as he tugged off his gloves.  
"Yes."  
"I don't feel any different," Larxene protested irritably, despite her heart's new steady under beat. "In fact, I don't feel anything at all."  
"That's because you don't have any emotions yet," Vexen huffed. "What's inside you is just the core and the shell."  
"What's the use of a heart with no emotions?" Larxene asked. She hopped from the desk and stalked around, apparently displeased already. Vexen resisted the urge to lower his head into his hands.  
"It's complicated," He said. "And I doubt you'd care to know. The point is that emotions work separately from the heart, if you will, so you'll need to collect them before your heart begins to function properly. It's a gradual process."  
"Oh," Larxene said dully, picking at her nails. "Well, that's anti-climatic."  
"I'm not one for drama," Vexen scoffed derisively, pulling Larxene back for a few final tests before letting her free to wander. She stuck her tongue out at him, the ungrateful little bitch.  
A few hours later, the ever inquisitive Marluxia popped down.  
"Larxene tells me that having a heart is boring."  
Vexen had been writing up the last of his experiment report, but now he turned with an exasperated sigh to face the newcomer.  
"Larxene has no regard for the finer nuances of science," He sighed. "Or, in fact, _any_ of the nuances of science, period."  
Marluxia chuckled, drawing up behind Vexen to peer at the report.  
"She is rather preoccupied by the flash and bang of the real world, I'll admit."  
Tempted to snap that science was far more 'real world' than whatever insanity Larxene partook in, Vexen resisted and simply rolled his eyes instead.  
"She doesn't understand and nor does she care to, yet she still finds it within herself to complain."  
"Was the experiment successful?" Marluxia asked, his tone of voice amused, his hair very nearly tickling the top of Vexen's head.  
"As far as I can ascertain," Vexen replied blankly. "Although the true results won't be apparent until Larxene actually collects some emotions."  
"You mean she hasn't already?"  
Vexen waved his arm around vaguely.  
"This place is devoid of emotions," He explained. "Didn't you know that?"  
Caught out, Marluxia stepped back from his post behind Vexen, shrugging.  
"I see."  
"I'll be accompanying her off-world later," Vexen continued, wrapping up his last sentence and laying down his pen."She'll likely be flooded with emotions, which could initially result in confusion, nausea and loss of consciousness."  
There was a moment of silence that made Vexen want to squirm uncomfortably.  
"But..." Marluxia said slowly, "Larxene's already gone."  
In these circumstances there was, regrettably, only one thing to say.  
"Shit."  
"_Shit_."  
"Do you know where she went?" Vexen asked, hissing as he grabbed his Organisation coat and pulled it onto his shoulders. Marluxia was doing the same, dragging the heavy zip up to his neck.  
"Land of Dragons."  
Vexen thought to grab a first aid kid as Marluxia threw a portal open.  
"There's no time to waste."  
Darkness swelled around them for a brief second; then there was nothing but the faint murmur of Marluxia's body in the utter absence of anything, and then sunlight enveloped them in South-Eastern China, a few miles out of the towering walls of the largest city of the Empire. Aside from the bustling city below, there wasn't a soul in sight, and certainly no Larxene. Immediately, Marluxia set off at a run towards the city, Vexen struggling to follow behind.  
"Slow down!"  
"We need to find her," Marluxia growled, slowing his pace a little - but not much. A heavy apprehension settled into Vexen's bones. He'd accidentally put Larxene in danger. Marluxia was going to be angry. And Marluxia was his superior, and nobody knew better than Vexen what happened when superiors got angry.  
"She can hold her own," He yelled back lamely. His toe hit a rock on the uneven path and for a moment he was grateful that Marluxia didn't see him stumble. Thrown out of his element, he really did seem incompetent.  
"Not if she's unconscious!"  
Vexen swore under his breath, wheezing already. He wasn't cut out for this. He was a scientist, not an endurance athlete.  
"She'll be fine," He managed through gasping for breath. "Do you _have_ to run?"  
Marluxia stopped suddenly and sent Vexen careening into him. Then he twisted elegantly, grabbed the taller man around his waist, and threw him over his shoulder.  
"Honestly."  
Vexen managed, impressively, not to scream as Marluxia began to run again, down through a leafy thicket and across a shallow stream.  
"If you were Larxene, where would you go?"  
Vexen had already squeezed his eyes tightly shut and was not planning to open them until Marluxia put his feet safely back on the ground.  
"Hell if I know!"  
"And how long would those effects you talked about last?"  
"I don't know!" Vexen screamed. "It depends on how fast the heart collects emotions, and the intensity of those - a lot of things could affect her body's response to the emotions!"  
"R... right."  
They reached the walls of the Imperial City in good time, where Marluxia set Vexen down and irritably pulled his heavy coat from his shoulders. Vexen shuddered, regaining his balance with a little difficulty as Marluxia strode through the gates.

* * *

Two hours later, they'd split up and were still searching. Larxene was nowhere to be found and Vexen was wringing his hands with worry. He'd lost Larxene, and now she could be in danger. Marluxia seemed to be keeping cool - for now - but his patience was clearly waning and Vexen had no desire to taste the cruel flash of the Assassin's blade. So, backed by the painful knowledge that the traitorous weasel Zexion and his stony bodyguard could decode the reports he'd left with ease, rendering him useless, Vexen toiled well into the afternoon checking alleyways and asking questions in search of Larxene. Nothing. Vexen was panicking by the time he caught up with Marluxia again. The pink haired man's lips were drawn into a tight line, and Vexen, heartless though he may have been, truly feared shaking his head at Marluxia's questioning glance.  
"Damn it."  
Vexen stooped and wrung his hands a little more as his mind attempted to quickly fathom some way to lay the blame on anyone without the possibility of a pink scythe being aimed rather neatly at his face.  
"She can't have got far," Marluxia reasoned; "This place is highly populated with people. She'd have portaled into a secluded place, which means she'll probably be in an alleyway."  
Vexen chose to nod and humbly agree. God, he was a coward; but he couldn't fight the lick of fear that swelled inside him. Even had never been like this, he dimly recalled: his heart had once been strong - strong enough even to grant him second life. Vexen in comparison was weak, all too acutely aware of his own faults and inferiority to those who held power over him. Namely Marluxia.  
He realised after a moment that the man was curiously watching him.  
"Y-yes?"  
"You don't need to pretend to care about her, you know," Marluxia clarified gently. Vexen was quick to shake his head, smoothing his expression into more emotionless contours.  
"I was just thinking," He said honestly, and decided not to elaborate.  
"About?"  
Vexen vaguely waved a hand in the air.  
"Just. Things."  
"Fine."  
Marluxia left it at that and moved on. They found Larxene - eventually. She was wandering the city in a daze; Vexen caught up with her first, quickly pulling a potion from the first aid kit should she have come to harm. She appeared to be physically fine, although her expression was one of displaced intensity that didn't seem quite sure how it had got there.  
"Larxene-" Vexen began, but he was interrupted by a violent slap to his cheek, then a kick planted firmly on his gut that sent him reeling.  
"I _hate_ you!" Larxene screamed at the top of her lungs, flinging a knife that easily pierced Vexen's shoulder. A few inches to the left, he thought weakly, and it'd have been instant death at his _neck_...  
"H-hey! There's no need for that!"  
He scrambled unsteadily to his feet, clutching his injured collar bone. "I warned you that you might have side effects, if you'd just-"  
"Shut _up_!" Larxene cried, more knives shooting towards Vexen, only just deflected by a hastily summoned shield. "I hate you so much! You stole-"  
She stopped abruptly, fire averted. Kunai fell from her fingertips, crackled to nothing before they could clatter to the floor.  
"- Marluxia."  
Vexen twisted to see the man himself watching the spectacle - just like everybody else in the square - with a blank expression, a little distance away.  
"Careful," He began, hoping at least to prepare Marluxia for Larxene's inexplicably violent demeanour, but suddenly a knife was buried in his stomach, sparkling ferociously. He crumpled.  
"Marluxia," Larxene was saying fiercely, somewhere in the near-far distance. "You egotistical, shallow bastard, don't you _dare_ leave me for..."  
Vexen didn't catch the rest. Darkness loomed in the fringes of his vision and with his last reserves of energy he reached out to grasp the potion bottle, dropped in shock to the floor. When he'd recovered a little, Larxene was unconscious in Marluxia's arms, and the Assassin appeared to be wiping... lipstick? ... from his cheek. Vexen blinked - hollow fear curling once more - and the apparition was gone. Marluxia walked him through a portal and back to the labs in silence.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Vexen was ready to bite through his own tongue worrying about what Marluxia was going to do to him. Larxene seemed to be okay - apart from her violent outburst to Vexen - but it was the principle, and Vexen feared principles almost as much as he feared death. As he worked with his equations and formulae, they talked in hushed whispers in the opposite corner of the lab. There was a lot of wild gesturing and leaning in for words so silent that Vexen could not even hear a murmur of noise. He plucked out a few words - but none of it made sense.  
"You know I couldn't."  
"Get a heart, and then tell me that you-"  
"It's just an illusion."  
"Trust me, it isn't. I know, Marluxia. I fucking know."  
"- doesn't matter anyway."  
Vexen tried to pretend that he wasn't desperately listening in, but he discovered little and nothing of use. Eventually, Larxene left with a downright murderous glare in Vexen's direction. Marluxia paused for a moment, appeared to contemplate a mystery something, then warily approached. Vexen froze a little, memories of being punished for his failures rising all too suddenly to the forefront of his mind. Whatever Marluxia was going to do, he thought, he was going to do it now. Vexen took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself.  
"So."  
Vexen nearly jumped, and hastily calmed his frayed nerves again. Marluxia drew up a stool, sitting beside Vexen and curiously eyeing up the stack of reports.  
"Explain."  
There was no malice in Marluxia's words - but how was Vexen to his true intentions?  
"I think that the emotions overcame her," He quickly began. "My hypothesis is that after so long in an emotionless state, her... inhibitions would have been diminished. She ought to recover; if not I'll remove the heart. As for her actions themselves, I don't know."  
"I know why she acted as she did," Marluxia replied dismissively. "I'm just curious."  
Curious, Vexen thought, resisting the urge to hide his face with his hands. What on Earth could he infer from that? A hundred meanings.  
"I'm sorry," He said, bowing his head as a word he loathed and a promise he never kept rose to his lips. "I won't fail you again."  
Marluxia appeared to be surprised by this. Then an odd sort of realisation passed across his face.  
"You're scared, aren't you."  
Vexen swallowed thickly, flicking a pen across the desk.  
"I put Larxene's life in danger."  
"The only life you endangered appears to be your own," Marluxia stated philosophically. "You're not seriously injured, are you?"  
Vexen shook his head - his stomach was still stinging, but he was unwilling to admit such weakness to Marluxia.  
"Larxene can't be the easiest person to work with," Marluxia continued idly. Vexen said nothing, neither wanting to agree or disagree. "At least we found her."  
Vexen nodded curtly.  
"Yes."  
Sensing conversation a lost cause, Marluxia stood and calmly made his way to the door.  
"I'm not Xemnas, you know."  
Before Vexen could reply, he was gone. The anxiety remained, biting into Vexen's being as he toiled furtively well into the early hours of the morning. What the heart couldn't afford was a flood of emotion. It needed an equilibrium, a gradual rise, in the right proportions - but each would be different depending on the nobody. Emotions, Vexen was forced to sullenly conclude, were far too complex for his mind to comprehend. This, he remembered thinking as, at five o'clock in the morning he toppled onto the floor into a deep sleep, was a problem. A big one. He'd take Larxene's heart out first thing tomorrow, and-

* * *

The next thing he remembered was waking up in a bed, feeling ill. His room. Somebody had come in the night to cart him off to bed. A dusk, maybe. Lexaeus? Perhaps, on a rare stroke of altruism.  
There was a mug of coffee on the bedside table, gently steaming. Vexen was grateful for it even if it was rather too milky sweet, and in a small number of gulps he'd downed it. The rush of caffeine seemed to focus his addled mind. Larxene. He needed to find Larxene, and not be brutally murdered this time. He showered quickly, ignoring his pounding head and burning stomach, and dressed in his Organisation coat before setting out into the maze of the castle in search of the Organisation's only female. He found her lounging in the Grey Room, looking bored out of her mind.  
"Larxene. I need you for a moment."  
She bluntly gave him the middle finger.  
"Fuck off."  
Affronted, Vexen felt his face fold into a scowl.  
"There's no need for that," He huffed. "I need to remove your heart. It's affecting your behaviour."  
"What, like I'd remove the balls that affects yours?" Larxene snapped. "Of course my heart's going to affect my behaviour. That's what it's supposed to do, you moron."  
"But you tried to kill me!" Vexen protested. All he received in return was an agitated sigh. "Look, you said you'd help me so you have to at least cooperate."  
"Vexen," Larxene said slowly. "For once, actually fucking listen to me, okay? You're so wrapped up in your own academia that you probably haven't taken in a word I've said for months. Didn't you think that once we've got hearts, yes, we're going to change?"  
"But-" Vexen began, but Larxene interrupted.  
"Which means, you grumpy old cow, that you're going to have to get very used to being very unpopular, very quickly."  
That blow hit hard, and maybe it was just the close proximity of blazing emotions in Larxene's heard, but Vexen could have truly sworn that she'd hurt him somewhere deep inside.  
"Trust me," He said as he turned away to stalk back to the labs; "I already am."


End file.
